Bleach: A Royal Flush Part I: The Kings Suite
by Hiro Nakamura
Summary: A New Generation of fighting. A New Generation of Enemies. A New Generation of Techniques. Order needs Balance. With extreme evil, you must need extra greatness to weigh out the difference.


Prologue

Disclaimer: Nope. I don't.

"Never in my life have I seen such…" The man stopped so suddenly, staring at the scene. It was like something out of a science fiction movie. _Humans? No. They are not plausibly capable of such mutant behavior. Forgive me, for I have sinned. Forgive me, for I have sinned. Forgive me, for I have--. _

"A scene so grotesque?" A woman stepped into the room, gave a slight bow and stopped. She laid her hand softly to her hip and gazed down. "You know. I've seen worse. WAY worse. Some guy actually disemboweled himself using a butter knife and his bare hands. Yeah. Scenes like this don't even top the cake. But this…It's not human at all. It's sickening. But let's get to work." She grabbed a thicket of hair, throwing it behind her with extreme assurance. "Maybe afterwards we can grab a coffee or something?" She winked at the man, who stood towering over her small 5'2 exterior. The light above them flickered slightly. Both stopped, dead in their tracks.

It was a small and creepy room. It was an affable box of a room, almost 10 feet across and ten feet high. The walls shown considerable molding as well as crumbling. The ceiling fan was decorated and hung with internal organs. The walls that were once a slightly bright shade of tangerine were now splashed with an ever so thick coat of blood. It bled down the wall as though it were running from the ceiling. The wall directly above the body, on the opposite side of the room had words plastered on it. They pranced around the wall in frighteningly bright neon colors suggesting that it had been there, far longer then the rotting corpse. It read:

SUITE SNEEUQ EHT

The wallpaper on all 3 adjacent walls were shredding and falling forward, revealing the bleach white wall slammed with concrete. Far above them, in the corner farthest from the two people, was a foot by foot window, which illuminated the room somewhat. Outside, it was dark, way past midnight and the moon sleepily crept up the night sky. Its lazy beams reflected through the window. The carpets were all stained with blood and a soggy, drained out finger laid beside the body. The body, now revealed, was a naked 18 year old male. His body had just entered rigor mortis and every part of his body was stiff as a board.

"It's been a short while…Hours perhaps? But rigor mortis may last 72 hours…So it's hard to tell." The body was strewn out in the most unordinary of ways. His knees were bent, but he lay on his side. Assuming of course, he died in a cradle position. _Coward? No_. _I can't think of the dead like that. No way could I. God, please lift his spirit. Allow for his passage to heaven. _The man began to poke and pull the arms up to check for signs. Cuts lined his entire body, one, extending from the mans neck to his pelvic region. No blood leaked from the cut however. It didn't gouge as deep as some of the others. The man had short blue hair, obviously he had had this hair for quit some time because the roots of his hair were all completely died. It was as though, there was a possibility that the man was born like that? _No._ His nose was sharp and pointy at the end, following outwards and down. It was snapped and cut up hard. His lips were chapped but contained nicely. The man pulled up the body's lip and examined the teeth. From what it seemed, no cuts reached his mouth. It was weird.

"These cuts…" The man stopped and prayed to himself before continuing. "Okay. Out of all the new technology created…Between guns and weird and crazy awkward weapons…The culprit weapon behind this murder…Seems to be some sort of katana? Maybe like an old samurai blade? Dull, but sharp. It seems that maybe…Maybe this was the work of like……the Yakuza or something?" The man stopped as he saw something on the body's back. He, at the moment, didn't realize that the woman had disappeared. It had been only a few moments later that he realized she had slipped back in. His back caught the man's eyes. "Look….at…..this…..What the fuck--?" The man was cut off as a blunt object slammed the back of his head, throwing him forward into the body. The detective lay there above the body, hemorrhaging heavily. Blood gushed from his head like a waterfall.

The woman sighed, but let out a quick chuckle. The darkness shrouded her face in a darkened veil. The blunt object she had been carrying was revealed as a katana. Its purple hilt was the object that hit the man stiffly. It had pink diamonds as well as turquoise petals falling from a string at the end of the hilt. The hilt was tied by a golden string twined and twisted up, as it left the hilt, it fell down at the base of the blade. The blade had a hint of purple, but the silver gleam of the blade reigned supreme. She swung the blade over her left shoulder with her right arm. She raised her left arm to her mouth and yawned.

"I can't stand shinigami's. Human cops are just as naïve." The back of her palm was bare, aside from the tattoo. The tattoo read: "TKS." She smiled a sly and dastardly smile as she kicked the man off of the body. She bent down on her knee's, still supporting her katana over her shoulder. It was a brisk feeling to have her breathing down your neck. Her spiritual pressure, pressed down the gravity on the mans head, giving him an extreme migraine aside from the excessive bleeding.

"Cuh-cuh-cray-zee…..Bitch." He murmured under his breath, trying to make a spitting noise with his saliva. She looked over to him and her head dropped. With a big sigh, she grasped the photo taped to the back of the body's back.

"Let me tell you my name…Detective…" She paused and searched for his tag. "Riord. Detective Riord, I am Kimisu Takasuchi. Most just call me Kim. Well…..My enemies call me KIH…Cuz that's all they can say before I take their heads off." She smiled warmly. "I am the Ace Diamond of The Kings Suite. And I want you to know…That I am In search of a man named Kurosaki. The prophecy of TKS has assured that he will lead us. But first, we must kill him and harvest his soul. But why am I rambling on? You care nothing of this. You probably want to go home and hug your wife and kiss your kids good night. I know about you. I know about everyone. And I can assure….The only thing you'll be kissing…Is satan's foot." With a giggle and a 'SHHHHHH' the blade met the carpet, slicing through the man's neck like a mere peach. Detective Riord's neck made a familiar noise to her, the gasping for air. Blood leaked from the hole above his shoulders.

"HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA." She cried out in triumphant laughter. She turned to face the door and with a great heave she walked out. The last thing seen was the photograph tucked in between her index and middle finger. It was a boy, a boy with golden orange hair and a smirk on his face.


End file.
